Monthly Archives: August 2016

Love my shadow

My shadow can be fun. As the sunrises it makes me a giant.
My shadow is in my memories. Early mornings on the Camino.
My shadow can be light or dark.

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My shadow can be something very dark. Over the last months I have seen/thought things that aren’t fun.
My shadow can be a complete bastard/bitch. Hurt me and we will show you.
My shadow can be a way of release. Whether good or bad who can say?
My shadow is part of me, the darker part of me, the part some aren’t allowed to see.
My shadow was a part Tony knew well enough yet still loved me.

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If they see me this way.

“Oh my gosh,” I pulled up short and ducked behind Tony.

“What?” he asked, turning round.

“Over there, that’s the Food and Beverage Manager of the Hotel.” I told him nodding to a guy at a far table of the bar we’d just entered.

“And?” Tony didn’t get it.

“He doesn’t know. What if he sees me?” I was still wary of sharing my sexuality with anyone and hadn’t been working at the hotel that long, so hadn’t come out, or been outed.

“What if he does?” Tony grabbed my hand and drew me towards the bar.

“Well…. for starters it’s a gay bar.” I began.

“Yep, and why do you think he’s here? ” Tony asked.

Ping/Flasha light-bulb went off in my head. “He’s gay too.”

“Lager is it?” Tony said favouring me with one of his special ‘you dumkopf’ looks. “Who are you talking about anyway?”

I discretely pointed out who I meant. “The guy in the suit over there, skinny : with the blond boy at the far table” I explained.

“Daisy,” Tony said.

“You know him?” I asked.

“Not really, but he’s often in here. That’s his camp name. Don’t know who he’s with though.” Tony handed me a pint and we sat down. It was obvious by now that ‘Daisy’ had seen me but was being as circumspect about recognising me as I was him. “Relax. he’s probably just as nervous having seen you here as you are him, especially if he’s not out at work either.”

“I really hadn’t thought about that,” I felt just a little bit stupid.

“Besides what does it matter?” Tony asked.

“I guess it doesn’t matter at all really.” I thought a moment. “But I want to let the secret out when I want to do it and not be forced to suffer a newspaper headline outing.”

Instead of saying anything else Tony leaned in and gave me a lingering kiss.

_____________________________

A couple of days later I was getting in the lift as ‘Daisy’ called down the corridor. “Hold the doors,” He stepped in and smiled at me. “Mark,” he greeted me. “D…” I began then changed mid-word “Mr ….”

He smiled again as I stood there like a rabbit in headlights.

“Going down?” he asked pressing the button for the restaurant floor.

 

 

 

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A beautiful mind.

The first attraction was physical. Or to be even more honest it was sexual. I was drawn to him for no other reason. We were sexual predators preying on each other. I wanted him and he wanted me. We followed our instincts and were both sated, each with/by the other.

In no time I was also deeply attracted to the man, the whole man. Everything about him felt right. We clicked, we fit, He was the knife to my fork, I was the nut to his bolt. Everything rang true. We were good together, so fucking good together. Even the rows and disagreements were right, if that’s possible.

Over the years my passion for him never dwindled. Sorry youngsters us oldies still like to get it on, and can be as dirty as the best of you. Our bodies changed as we aged together, and at the times when  they failed us we had each others’ backs.. None of that was important. We were always one, or two parts of a whole.

In short time I craved not only his body but his incredible mind too.  He grounded me, gave me reasons, applied logic, and at times simply took the piss. Sharp and fast his humour never missed the mark (or this Mark), although at times I cringed when I got it but others didn’t, but it was never meant with malice, only with care.

He stored facts like a library. No matter he didn’t remember that the cake slice went in the second drawer down, or what all the icons on his new smart phone did, or that I was/wasn’t working at specific times. His mind was beautiful.

It was at his funeral that this was all brought home to me when people talked about my husband and his amazing mind, and the amazing person he had been. Over the past months so many people have shared snippets with me. These were about the times when Tony used just a few words to make someone feel good about themselves, times when he gave the advice someone needed at exactly the right moment, and times when he brought someone up short and made them reassess a situation. It is the with the sharing of these snippets that I have been given confirmation of just what a beautiful mind he had, and how much I miss him.

 

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The first time

So many first times, so many memories.
———————————————————-

“We hadn’t even got the curtains up,” I laughed and pulled him back towards me.

“You are so gay.” he whispered into my ear as he stroked my back.

“Thank you. and lucky for you too,” I replied, “Or you wouldn’t have just got away with that. So that ‘s the bedroom christened, what’s next?” I asked. We’d been together a few years by then, but the novelty of him hadn’t worn off.

“Putting up the curtains?” he joked. “if we had any.” he added.  “We’ve probably already scandalised the neighbours.”

“Not quite what I meant.” I slipped my hand back inside his shirt.  “But we are going to have to do something about this carpet.” I ran my other  hand over its coarse surface.

“I knew exactly what you meant, and there will plenty of time for that later.” he said as he caught my hand and removed it from inside his shirt. “Annie will be here in a bit and we’d better be decent before she arrives. She doesn’t want to see your carpet burns”

He was right. We’d picked up the keys to our new flat that morning and had rushed  directly round to explore it once again, as well as each other. Annie, our friend had offered to help move our stuff, such as it was, from our bedsit to our new place. A new chapter was opening for us both. Our first time as home owners, our first time paying a costly mortgage, our first time in our own space and that very morning our very first time in our new home. Life, full of firsts, was good.

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When I cannot move.

“Coming,” Tony calls down the hallway.

“Arghhh, bugger,” I roll over a little but am stuck. I’ve now been laid up for three days with the most horrendous sciatica, moving in bed is a challenge, anything else needs careful planning and a lot of help.

“I told you to wait, you’re…” he starts

“… an impatient old sod?” I finish for him.

“Something like that,” he agrees.

“I need the loo,” I tell him the reason for calling.

“I should bring you a bucket,” he offers once again.

“If you help me get up I can hobble out there, I’m sure.” I hold out an arm.

“Impatient and stubborn.” He shakes his head and grabs my hand. “Now carefully,” he warns.

Pushing with one hand against the headboard, and pulling with Tony’s help with the other I gradually sit up. amidst a lot of grunting and moaning (though no gnashing of teeth) I manage to spin round enough to get my feet on the floor.

“Hang on,” Tony stoops down to put my flip flops on for me. He’s none too agile either and almost ends up on his butt, but slips my feet into the shoes.

“There,” he says standing up again with a grunt or two. “Two old gits we’ve become,” he laughs although the grain of truth within his words hits home.

“Now what?” he asks.

“I stand up and run down the hallway and out to the bathroom for a pee, before I wet myself.” sarcasm is often one of my defences.

“Yeah okay, no need..” he leaves his words to trail off as he leans into me to help me stand.

Step by painful step I gradually move from the bedroom to the hallway using the furniture and walls to keep me upright. Tony is right behind me, though if i fall i know we’ll both end up on the floor. The concentration makes sweat beads appear on my forehead, even though it’s the end of November and nowhere near warm enough for the weather to be the cause.

The rest of the journey is the same, and the return one as bad. I eventually make it back to bed and stretch out as best I can.

“Here,” Tony hands me a couple of painkillers which I dutifully swallow aith a gulp of water. “And roll over,”

“Mmmm,” I smile.

Tony waves the pain-relief gel at me and rolls his eyes in the way only he knows how. He sits on the edge of the bed ready to massage some into my side and back.

“For better or worse, in sickness and…” he mutters as he starts to rub it in making me groan, but not with pleasure.

“I know, but neither of us actually said those words,” I remind him.

“I know…” he replies pinching me. In my minds eye I can see him rolling his eyes again.

“Oi,” I grumble.

“Do you have to literally be so literal?” he asks, knowing that ‘literally’ is one of my least favourite words.

“In this position …” I start but don’t finish as Tony kisses me on top of my head.

“Now don’t move for a few minutes, let it soak in. and don’t pull your t-shirt down yet.” He orders.

“Yes doc,” I reply as I turn to face him. I smile and pull a face. “Thank you. You know how much I appreciate this? and that I love you?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” He laughs so that I know he’s taking his turn with sarcasm. “It’s what we do isn’t it. When I can’t move you look after me, and now it’s my turn. Love you too, grumpy as you are. Now do you want a cuppa?”

 

 

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As deep as I can go

“Hold my legs tighter,” I spat out.

“Got them,” he held and still pushed.

“Gently,” I moaned. It wasn’t the most comfortable position.

“I am being….” I heard in reply. I wasn’t sure if he was giggling at our predicament.

“I know, it’s just being bent over like this is a bit tricky,” I laughed.

“You suggested it,” he was definitely laughing now.

“Okay. I’ll accept the blame, now less chat more action,” I stretched as far as I could.

“Well?”

“Shhhh” I replied. “I think I’m stuck, but hang on… hang on….”

“What?”

“Stuck, I’m in as deep as I can go without ……. oh hang on.” I wriggled around a bit. “She’s here, got her, pull” he pulled on my legs and  moments later we were free.

“Bloody cat. Don’t go down there again,” I laughed as I dragged her looking slightly bedraggled from the well.  She looked affronted and ran indoors.

“Lucky the neighbours don’t speak English they would have had a right fit at our conversation,” He gently brushed off my jeans which were covered in muck. “One we could repeat indoors now,” he suggested as his brushing became firmer.

“Lets,” I grabbed his hand. “At least she’s safe. If the well was any deeper we mihgt have had to get help.” I said with relief. It seemed that our cats were intent on exploring their new home, including taking a look down the well.

08-25 deep as hell

 

 

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Can’t hurt me now.

Can’t hurt me now – Can this ever be true while our hearts continue beating?

“You’re an iron,” he shouted at me as he approached down the aisle of the coach on what should have been a relaxing holiday excursion.

“Dirty pervs, keep away from my kids,” She whispered menacingly in the supermarket.

“Fucking Queer,” he spat at me, as he literally spat in my face, in the street in which  I lived.

“Don’t be a cissy,” at school and from relatives too many times to count.

“Maricon,” he joked in the office, and apologised “Oh, er, I didn’t mean….”

“Poofs,” they taunted as we stood at the checkout.

“Back to the walls,” he joked as we moved towards the bar.

These are just a few  real exchanges in my life. Each and every time the insults hurt, whether in jest, joke or said with venom and bile.

___________________________________________

“We’re queer, we’re here, and we’re not going shopping” We shouted as we marched arm in arm for rights that everyone else had.

“2, 4, 6, 8, Do you know your boyfriend’s really straight,” More chanting as we came together for equality.

“I have loved you in the past, I love you now, and will always love you.” Words to my husband on a very special day.

All said in defiance of a world that has had trouble accepting us as people, human beings, not the same, but no different.

_______________________________________

“Why do they hate us so for who we are?” I asked, tears on my cheeks.

“Because they can, because they need to make someone feel worse than themselves, because they are ignorant.” he replied holding. “I’m always here, I love you.”

“They can’t hurt me now, in your arms,” I whispered, knowing that this was just a reprieve from the hate, but held in Tony’s arms for just a few moments I could believe that.

Now there’s no one to hold me. I’m more sensitive than  ever. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to repeat that phrase until I’m back with the man I love.

 

 

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